Touch of Power. Maria Snyder V.

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for Kerrick and I noticed the window had been covered with iron bars at one time. The stumps of the bars appeared as if they had rusted right through.

      Glancing around, I understood why these men had used this window. The back of the jail faced a pasture and stable for the watchmen’s horses. Since the jail marked the edge of town, there were no other buildings behind it. Just the well-used north-south trade route.

      Kerrick joined us. A crash echoed, a man cursed and then the pounding drum of many boots grew louder, heading toward us.

      “Belen.” Kerrick sighed the name.

      “Flee or fight?” the young man asked.

      Kerrick glanced at me. “Flee.”

      After hopping the pasture’s fence, we raced to the woods. The herd of watchmen behind us sounded as if they would tread on my heels at any moment. The last remnants of the drowning sickness impeded my breathing and I gasped for air. For a second, I marveled that Fawn had lived as long as she had.

      When we reached the edge of the forest, Kerrick shouted, “Become one with nature, gentlemen. We’ll meet at the rendezvous point.” He snatched my hand.

      Kerrick led me through the dark woods, but my passage sounded loud compared to his. However, my stumbling noises became undetectable when the watchmen chasing us burst into the woods. The cracks of breaking branches and crunching leaves dominated.

      They soon settled and moved with care, pausing every couple of minutes to listen for us. Holding their lanterns high, they spread into a line. I counted twenty points of light. Kerrick stopped when they did, but our progress remained agonizingly slow. I feared my recapture was imminent unless we encountered a Death Lily first and it consumed us. I shuddered at the thought. I’d rather go to the guillotine than be snatched by a man-eating plant.

      “There they are,” a voice called.

      I froze, but Kerrick seized my shoulders, ordered me to stay quiet and flung us to the ground. We rolled through the underbrush. A strange vibration pulsed through my body. The sounds of pursuit approached. Convinced they would trample us, I clung to him as my world spun. We halted with me flat on my back.

      Kerrick covered me from view. He kept most of his weight on his elbows. He peered to our right. Shadows bounced as boots stepped near us. A few watchmen came within inches.

      My throat itched with the need to cough. I suppressed the overwhelming desire to squirm, to yell, to scratch. Then the rustling of leaves and tread of boots faded. I relaxed, but Kerrick kept his protective position.

      “Once they realize they lost us, they will come back,” he said.

      So I remained still despite the cold dampness from the recent rains soaking into my clothes. Despite Kerrick’s warm body pressed against mine. Despite his intoxicating scent tickling my nose. He smelled of living green, moist earth and spring sunshine. Two of the three made sense, since leaves and dirt covered his clothes as well as mine. I couldn’t explain the sunshine. The fall season was in full swing. I suspected my lack of sleep played a role in altering my senses.

      To distract myself from my uncomfortable position and his closeness, I watched the moon descend through the trees. It would set soon, leaving us in total darkness for a few hours.

      As Kerrick had predicted, the watchmen returned. Light swept dangerously close. Footsteps crunched nearby. My heart thumped so loud, I swore it would give us away. And just when I wanted to scream, they were gone.

      We waited for a while, listening for many nerve-racking minutes … hours … days. Or so it seemed. Finally, Kerrick stood and pulled me to my feet. I swayed. Icy air clawed at my skin through my wet clothes.

      He scanned the sky. “We need to put as much distance between us and Jaxton before sunrise,” he said. “Can you keep up?”

      I drew in a deep breath, testing my lungs. The drowning sickness had finally gone. “Yes.”

      “Good.” He took my hand.

      A tingle spread up my arm. I debated breaking his hold, but Kerrick moved through the forest with confidence. Once the moon set, the trail disappeared. Kerrick slowed our pace, but otherwise he continued on as if he could see in the dark, leaving me stumbling in his wake.

      By the time the sun rose, I had lost all sense of direction, I was frozen and exhausted. Trusting this stranger seemed like a good idea in the middle of the night, but in the light of day, I questioned my judgment. What would stop Kerrick from turning me in for the bounty after I healed his friend? Nothing. His promise not to hurt me hadn’t included his accomplices. Still, for now, my head remained attached to my shoulders. A positive thing. I decided to stay alert and stick to my own survival instincts—taking it one problem at a time.

      As daylight lit the red, yellow and orange colors of the forest, Kerrick increased his pace. I dug in my heels and tried to extricate my hand from his, but he wouldn’t let go.

      Stopping to glance at me in annoyance, he asked, “What’s the matter?”

      “I need to rest. Healers are not indestructible. If I’m too weak, I won’t be able to cure your friend.”

      While he considered, I studied him. The color of his eyes matched the forest—russet with flecks of gold, orange and maroon. Blond streaks shot through his light brown hair. Most of his shoulder-length locks had escaped a leather tie. He was five inches taller than my own five-foot-eight-inch height. And I guessed he was five to ten years older than me.

      “It’s too dangerous to be out in the open. We’re not far from the rendezvous point,” he said.

      “How long?”

      “Another hour. Maybe two. If you’d like, I can carry you.”

      “No. I’ll be fine.”

      He quirked a smile at my quick reply, causing his sharp features to soften just a bit. Some women might think him pleasing to the eye in a rugged way. Four thick scars—two on each side of his neck appeared to be bite marks from some beast.

      As he pulled me along, I wondered what animal had had its teeth around Kerrick’s throat. The ufa were reported to be thriving and breeding like rabbits. Feeding off the plague victims’ dead bodies, the large carnivore possessed the strength and pointed canines to rip open a man’s throat. Packs of them lived in the southern foothills of the Nine Mountains.

      After another hour of hiking, I lost all feeling in my feet. I stumbled. Kerrick grabbed my arm, preventing me from falling.

      “Another two miles,” he said.

      “Just … give me … a minute,” I puffed while he didn’t have the decency to even appear winded. “Aren’t you tired?”

      “No.” He gazed at the surrounding forest. “In the past two years, I’ve walked thousands of miles, searching for a healer.”

      “No horses?”

      “No. They’re too big to hide.” Seeing my confusion, he added, “We didn’t want anyone to know about our mission. Healers are skittish.”

      “Most prey are.”

      “True.”

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